


Bloody Valentine

by Burning_Up_A_Sun



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Concussions, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29451486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Up_A_Sun/pseuds/Burning_Up_A_Sun
Summary: The Valentine's Day game against the Capitols was as rough as always, but Geno wasn't going to let Wilson fight Sid.
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin
Comments: 15
Kudos: 84





	Bloody Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> The Pens beat the Caps today 6-3. What a game! Happy Valentine's Day. This is shameless Valentine's fluff. I'm not even sorry. 
> 
> unbeta'd. all mistakes are mine. The awesome Valentine's cards are property of the Penguins.
> 
> The title comes from the Machine Gun Kelly song, Bloody Valentine.

“C’mon, G. Don’t be a baby.”

Geno pulled his head back from of Sidney’s hands and ignored the way his bed felt like his fishing boat on the rough Atlantic. Nausea rose up but the pounding in his head easily overpowered it. 

“I promised Sully I’d take care of you. It’s the only reason you’re not in the hospital.” Sidney cradled Geno’s face and held him until Geno’s shoulders deflated. “I’m going to take the packing out of your nose. It’s probably gonna stick, but I’ll try to do it as easy as I can.”

Geno nodded. Meant to nod. Had no idea if he’d even moved his head, except for the throbbing that doubled.

Sid approached Geno’s nose, the tweezers poised to pinch the cotton roll out of each nostril. “I told you not to start with Wilson,” Sid said, inching forward. “He’s a fucking animal with his shoulder. You know what he did to Zach. But you had to get in there—”

“Not let him punch you,” Geno said through his stuffed nose. Everything was swollen—his nose, his eyeballs, his head, and Sid kept yelling. “My job to stop him.”

“It was Dumo’s job to stop him.” Sid tugged the first one free and dropped it onto a wad of toilet paper. “Or Tanger’s or POJ’s or Weedle’s or—”

The second wad stuck, most likely blood dried against cartilage. Geno hissed and batted Sid’s hand away.

“Zhenya, please,” Sid’s voice softened. “I’m sorry it hurts.”

Geno sighed and dropped his hands into his lap, waiting while Sid extracted the second cotton roll and then dabbed his face with a warm cloth. 

“Done. That was okay, wasn’t it?”

Geno grabbed at Sid’s hand, or at least one of the three he saw. “Sorry. Not my idea of best Valentine’s surprise.”

“Good to know you didn’t plan it.” Sid patted Geno’s leg before gathering the trash and taking it to the bathroom. Then he helped Geno stand. “Let’s get you into bed.”

Geno tried to leer at Sid, waggle his eyebrows and look devastatingly handsome, but he was pretty sure his wince and “Ow!” detracted from his overall attempt. 

Sid laughed again, and as he worked the knot in Geno’s tie, he said, “What’id you plan?”

Once Geno found a volume that didn’t send spikes through his skull, he described the evening’s original surprise. “Reserve Presidential Suite at fancy hotel. You so quiet—” Geno traced the curve of Sid’s cheekbone with the tip of his finger. _Still so beautiful._ “Have whole floor for just us. You be as loud as you want—” 

“Zhenya—” Sid breathed, his eyes closed, his fingers stilled on Geno’s shirt buttons. He wasn’t making much headway getting Geno’s suit off of him. 

“As loud as I’m _make_ you be.” Geno leaned in to kiss Sid but misjudged and bumped his nose on Sid’s. “I’m mean to do that.”

Sid smiled as he worked open the tiny buttons on Geno’s dress shirt.

“I’m keep you in bed all night and all next day. Room service bring champagne and maybe I’m spill some on you, lick off your chest.” Geno’s voice broke, and he tried to pull Sidney closer, but the movement brought another wave of nausea. 

“Shhhh,” Sid whispered while he unthreaded the belt, dragging it through the loops. He was careful not to brush against Geno’s dick that had, with complete disregard for his broken nose and concussion, decided to swell in response to everything about Sidney. The familiar scent of his shampoo he brought to the arena. His hands undressing Geno. The devotion in his eyes and on his lips.

“We still go. Now. I’m drive.” Geno turned to snag the keys from his nightstand, but before he could, Sidney snatched them from his hands. 

“Easy there, champ.” Faster now, Sidney unzipped and pushed Geno’s trousers down to his ankles. He wrestled Geno out of his dress shoes and mumbled _Fuck it_ as he left the socks on Geno’s feet. “We’ll go to the hotel later,” Sid lied. “Let’s get you into bed with an ice pack now.”

Geno slid between the sheets, and Sid propped him up on their bed pillows as well as the decorative pillows they usually tossed on the floor. “You stay here. Don’t move. I’ll be right back with an ice pack and a Gatorade.”

“Blue,” Geno whispered because the spikes were back.

“Blue. It’s the best flavor.”

Geno eased his head back, resting it against the wall. He could get used to this, Sidney taking care of him. Calling him _Zhenya._ More than a sometimes booty call or a History Channel and chill.

This season, he’d spent more nights at Sidney’s than at his own house, but they never talked about it. They’d fall asleep on the couch or in bed after sex.

“You got lucky, G,” Sidney said, waving the bottle in front of him. “Last one!”

Geno struggled to sit up straight. “Sid. I’m want more.” 

“It’s all I got, but I’ll get more—” 

When Sid reached for the keys, Geno grabbed his wrist. “Not mean Gatorade. Us. You. Me.” Geno gestured in the space between them. “What we doing?”

Sidney cocked his head in confusion and stared, but Geno barreled on. “I’m too old for sex—”

“I know for a fact that’s not true.” Sidney grinned as he cracked open the Gatorade. 

Geno grimaced. Everything hurt, and this wasn’t going right. If only Sidney had taken the goddamn time to learn Russian, then everything would be clear. 

“Not sex. I’m mean come and go—”

Sidney snickered.

“Never mind.” Geno tried to roll over away from Sid’s stupid face, but there were too many pillows. Like a pillow fortress. 

Sid sat on the edge of the bed facing Geno. “Man, if I’d only kept up with the Russian tutor—”

Geno raised one eyebrow as high as he could and glared. But his head ached, and his nose was blood stained and swollen, and he looked pathetic.

“I’m sorry, G. I was just teasing.” Sid reached into his nightstand and pulled out a small box with red ribbon wrapped around it and tied in a bow that had gone all smooshed and cattywampus in the drawer. “I was gonna do this tonight, y’know, after everything.” He stared meaningfully at Geno, probably assuming that G would fill in the word _sex._ “But, well. Here.”

Sidney thrust the box at Geno, who lit up for the first time since Wilson had taken him down. He pulled the ribbon off, and when he opened the box, one silver Kwikset key laid on the cotton square. 

“I—this is—us. You and me. We’re always together, and you’re always here—”

Geno huffed and crossed his arms. “Sorry always here—”

Sid pried Geno’s arms apart and held his hand. “I’m not good with words like you are, Zhenya,” Sid said to his lap as if he were afraid Geno might laugh. “It’s a key to my house. I want you to have it. To be here. Whenever you want. I don’t know. All the time.”

Geno lifted Sidney’s chin so he could see what was written on his face, in those eyes that were everything. It looked like fear and desire and—something else. He hoped he was right about what that was, too. 

“Together all the time? It be Geno,” Geno said trying to imitate Sidney’s strong, flat Canadian accent. “Pick up your suit, eh? Wash your dishes, eh?”

“I don’t sound like that at all.” Sid glared at Geno, but he could see the crooked smile Sid was trying to hide. “Never mind. I take it back,” and he tried to swipe the box from Geno’s hand. 

“No way. Is mine. Besides, I’m hurt.” Geno pouted. “Hurt everywhere.” Sidney looked unconvinced, so Geno pointed to his nose. “Hurt here.”

Sid gently kissed the tip of Geno’s nose.

“Hurt here.” Geno pushed out his lower lip further and then pointed to his forehead. 

Sidney gently kissed Geno’s temple. 

“Hurt here.” Geno pointed to his lips and looked at Sidney through his lashes. 

“Oh really?” Sid sat back and grinned. “We saw that movie together,” but he kissed Geno’s lips as softly as he could.

“You can keep the key,” he said against Geno’s lips, before kissing him again. “Move in. Stay.”

“I’m love—” Geno breathed and stopped himself. “It. I’m love it.”

Of course he loved Sidney. He probably had since the first day they stepped on the ice together. And if he guessed right, Sid felt the same way. But tonight wasn’t the night to say it. 

Valentine’s Day was too cliché. 

He’d wait for the perfect time. 

When they could celebrate together, could whisper it over and over (and not because one of them had a concussion), he’d say it. He’d pour it over Sidney, tell him a thousand times a thousand times. But not today. 

Besides. Sid knew who his Valentine was. Had been. Always would be.

**Author's Note:**

> The movie is, of course, the original Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the lost ArkWe are he tricks Marion in the kissing him once they are safe on the ship.


End file.
